A FEW MORE ZZZZZZS, PLEASE!

For crying out loud, a body just cain't get no rest around here…the alarm just went off at 4:30 a.m.--mistakenly--for me to take my Prednisone, which wasn't supposed to happen until 6 a.m., and now I'm wide awake. Oh, well, might as well write.

Last night after we arrived home from our trip down the state, we were all exhausted. The kiddies had gotten tired on the trip and wouldn't go to sleep and fussed instead J. Just kidding. When I crawled into the back seat and sat between their carseats and sang to them for forever, they were fine from that point on, until the three-year-old finally fell asleep, and the night-quite-two-year-old got hyper from the ice cream we felt them. J

So I wrote on this site, and Milton sat in the family room watching a show to wind down from four hours of driving while also eating somebody's homemade dessert (banana pudding? luscious peanut butter pie?; the food around here is to die for (oh, wait, I shouldn't say that statement; yikes; you can laugh; I am! haha; God knows; that's not a lack of faith; it's just an old statement).

And so we crawled into bed and just clung to each other. I kept saying, "What are we doing to do? What are we doing to do? What are we doing to do?" And he said, "We're going to make it, Kristy." And then he fell asleep, but I hadn't taken my Ambien. So I did, and it was kicking in, and I remembered I forget to set the alarm to get up for Prezzie, so I tried setting the alarm, and the LCD screen was dead. Evidently, Milton had unplugged it yesterday when he put in our pretty new black phone system. He's too groggy to get up and replug it behind our mammoth twin nightstands, and so I try and can't succeed, so I get out our travel alarm and set it, and wouldn't you know, this morning, the electric one goes up at 4 a.m. and wakes me up? Sheesh! It's battery must've kicked in.

So Milton's now cutting zzzzs, and I'm lying there, and my body starts shaking. Thighs. Trunk. Chest. Won't quit. I wake him up. "Milton, I'm shaking. I know I'm not having a seizure, but this is miserable. It could be exhaustion. Or it could be a side effect of one of these drugs I'm on, and I start thinking, Am I going to do this in that big ol' specialized MRI Thursday morning before the surgery when they stick silver snaps all over my head and map out surgery plans? What about on the operating room table? My fears and concerns take hole of me. So he says, "Here, let me hold you," and scoot over to him, and we hold each other like we're never going to let each other go. And then, the Ambien kicks in.

Then I wake up sweating sometime in the middle of the night. Bad. Pillow is drenched. Back of hair is wed. Started to say, "Sheesh!" (Yesterday in the van, Norma read aloud from the doctor's big book on brain cancer, that this is a side effect.) But I'm changing to all positive thought and thinking. "Praise, You, Lord, for this. Praise You, Lord, for everything, even night sweats and cuckoo alarm clocks."

"Now, Father, give me a few more zzzzzs until my day starts. Amen and amen."

Warning: I have a brain turmo and am not responsible for typos, which I normally can't stand. That's what my family keeps joking, about anything I do almost! We have to laugh. The Bible says a merry heart does good like a medicine. So laugh with me!